A Picnic
by Tsuppi
Summary: I want to remember when first I heard it. Back through the worst thunderstorms, before the first time the Emberites had seen water fall from overhead, and back to that lonely faucet that kept leaking ... So why do I need to forget it all sometimes? 1shot


A/N: Sorry if the editing is lacking, but just as on-the-thumb this was made, so was the revision. The Books of Ember series by Jeanne DuPrau, however obscure in FFnet, is an unforgettable series for me. This was written in anticipation of the fourth and final book, "The Diamond of Darkhold," in which, I've just found out, Doon & Lina (_Line-_ah?) go on another adventure.  
Thank you for such great characters, Ms. DuPrau, and thank you to any reviewers. _(cross fingers)_

* * *

A Picnic

___"How far do you think it should be?" he said, shadowing his eyes with a hand raised to his forehead.  
"How much farther?" I answered, "I don't think I can even see it... The only thing I recognize is the path."  
"_Heh_. __Nostalgic, isn't it?" I agreed.  
"Let's rest—right by there." Doon's finger pointed to a broad tree hiding behind a hill to the left of our path, the path we'd both followed only in times of desperation. Today was an exception.  
"Race you, Lina!"  
"You read my mind!"_

* * *

Beneath the shade, my thoughts wandered lazily, like the puffs of cloud visible through the tree's canopy.  
_How did I ever use to live without weather--_  
A wind passed through, shuffling the browned leaves laying on the ground with us. We both sighed contentedly.  
_--The wind…? The sun? The snow... and the rain..._  
The water returning to the ground and bringing it to life whenever it did—this, at times, was rare.  
But everyone in Sparks got through it, a strong community, sometimes more like a large family.

The sound of rainfall, the plops of the water droplets touching ground... I feel like I've heard it before.  
"I wonder why we both have weird families, huh, Doon?"

It sounds like distant applause and at the same time a tardy drop of water from the tap, disappearing into a rain catch.  
"Weird? You mean, you've Mrs. Murdo and--"  
"You've got your father? No, not really..."

I want to remember when first I heard it. Back through the worst thunderstorms, before the first time the Emberites had seen water fall from overhead, and back to that lonely faucet that kept leaking. I want to go back.  
So why do I need to forget it all sometimes?  
"You never remembered your mother, right?"  
"No, Father tells me she'd died when I was small."  
"…But you and your father are so close now."

One day, the yellow coffee cup in my mother's hands fell to the ground and broke; it had been her favourite one. My little sister wanted to come out, was what my grandmother told me.  
"What about it?"  
Soon enough I'd been shoved outside. I never would see her again.  
"You two are all you have..."  
"Wh-what are you talking about? …Look. He and I were a lot like other families, you know—with the some of the sicknesses everyone got in Ember, but now, you and Poppy—"

The first thing I saw coming back into the house after a long, long time was a body wrapped in some worn linen. It reminded me of a small bean. The shape made muffled noises in the arms of my grandmother; for a while, that was all I heard. Then Doctor Crane emerged.  
"--You're _family_."

She told me gently, and a little out of breath, that her name is to be Poppy, and that I should please let my grandmother have a short talk with her for a moment, so I went to grandma in the corner, who was looking down at the baby... just craning her neck toward it so I couldn't see her. Poppy.  
I took her from grandma, and told her what the doctor told me. When she left, I decided that I would rock Poppy back and forth for a while and walk through the room. It was all I could think to do. When that while had passed... it was I who sat in the corner, quietly staring.

It was so heavy.

_"Mmm."_

* * *

"_Yet within the streets of Ember... Bright and bravely shines our light..._"  
I finished humming the City's Song of Darkness and opened my eyes. Even though we seem to be too busy to think often on it—I mean, the way things were—singing Ember's songs puts me into trances… like lullabies. Hiding my head between my knees, I felt Doon's eyes locked on me.  
Poppy and her idea of a morning picnic had brought me—as well as Doon and Mrs. Murdo, plus Dr. Crane and her nephew Torren—to the faraway field that lied some miles from Sparks. There was a fine afternoon wind blowing through the landscape and a cloudless sky when the both of us had ventured a few miles farther, towards the direction of the tunnel rising from Ember. Being not a little anxious to see it after all these years, we had lost sight of them fast; the others had trailed behind us a long time ago.  
The sun was overcast with clouds as we sat beneath the tree, with its huge trunk and its broad leaves reminding us of the first time we had ever seen one coming out from underground (not to mention seeing our first sunrise). Actually, the place from which we'd emerged must still be hours away, and we'd already waited for the others to catch up for a while...  
It was late in the afternoon, and the sky was continuing to grow darker. The sun pulled down its warmth along with it, so that the shade under which we sat faded and lost its effect. I sniffed and rubbed my hands, my fingers feeling especially cool.  
"They'll want us to get back to town now," said Doon quietly, rising from his seat, a gnarled root. I looked up and assented. Pushing my hand to the moist ground and pulling myself up, awkwardly I got to my feet to stride beside him.

The sun was almost finished setting when the fields and the sprawling of Sparks were in sight, at the bottom of a hill. At its foot Poppy sat waiting in an Indian sit. She had her arms crossed, and a wicker basket lay next to her. I moved quietly behind her turned back and took her two shoulders. She'd within a second turned her head round, jumped to her feet and tackled me, which is the way she prefers to hug, when she started spouting,  
"I wanted to keep going, Lina, I really, really did, but the doctors, they decided to turn back—but I didn't step one foot into town!" Her face was buried in my dress.  
In response, Doon apologized, although he was smiling the whole time. He bent down to her level and opened his arms, "Let me make up for worrying you," he said. Soon enough Poppy had scrambled up to sit on his shoulders.  
Before we headed down the hill, what he had said about us returned to me with the strength of a spring gale: we're family now.  
"Arms around his neck, Poppy, not over the poor boy's eyes!"  
"Aww, but _Lina_!"

I wouldn't mind another picnic, to tell the truth.


End file.
